


Reminded of his own Mortality

by Arpad



Series: Confronting Mortality [1]
Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Daddy Issues, M/M, Missing Scene, SiH 32 spoilers, Throndir cries a lot, be warned, descriptions of a panic attack of you squint, identity crisis, this is some emo bullshit, uh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-23 20:08:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19158082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arpad/pseuds/Arpad
Summary: This first part is a direct continuation of their conversation in Spring 32. It won't make sense if you haven't heard it or don't remember it so the conversation starts at 17:20 if you want to relisten!





	1. ok but what if Red Jack rolled a 4?

“Now,” Red Jack says, bracing against his sword and correcting his posture; chest out and shoulders back, a quiet pop relieving some of the tension that's been building between his shoulder blades. He moves his gaze from Throndir to the dark forest beyond the campfire, “it is third watch, and  _you_  should sleep.”  


Throndir instead comes to sit beside him, careful to leave space between them despite how near he has to sit to fit on the log, “They're not going to do what you did... And they're not going to do what I did either.” Throndir is looking up at Red Jack, but the giant resolutely stares into the middle distance in a way that most people understood to be dismissal. Throndir continues, “They're..They're better than us”  


Red Jack deflates a little. “Then we have succeeded,” he says and shuts his eyes with a slight grimace.  


Throndir has nothing to say in response, afraid to read more into it that 'we' than what he knows Red Jack intends: an acknowledgment that Throndir has served as a good mentor to Blue J and nothing more. His mind provides him with flashes of memory – of the pride in Jack's eyes when Throndir returned a scrawny blue child with a bad haircut to their father, Throndir upset that they had followed him into the blizzard on a hunting trip but Red Jack just laughing and tossing the child into the air before catching them in a hug. Of countless nights after that spent in Red Jack's rooms, teaching Blue J what he knew of the wilds while Jack cut thin slices from the tubers that he and Blue J had uncovered beneath waist-deep snow – Red Jack's wide grin and soft eyes as he listened to Blue J recite what he'd learned as they all shared a platter of fresh chips, spiced with a powder that Red Jack claimed to have been given as a gift from a little bird that fell from the moon. Of hushed conversations after a growing Blue J had fallen asleep, Red Jack's concern over how best to counsel his child struggling with their feelings towards their best friend, Red Jack's barely contained laughter at Throndir's disastrous suggestions for ways to get the two youths together. Of the depths of sadness in Red Jack's expression all those years before as he pulled away from Throndir to shut himself away despite still-fresh wounds that needed tending. Of all the times he'd been drawn to Jack, only to be kept at a safe distance.  


_To keep him safe_. Throndir realizes, suddenly, that Red Jack has been watching his child grow convinced that at any moment, once an undetermined threshold was met, he would lose himself to violence, and then lose himself all together. He touches Red Jack's arm and immediately feels the muscles contract at the contact. Throndir is acutely aware that this is the first time they've intentionally touched since Old Man's Chin and quietly, he says, “Blue J won't make the sort of choice I did because they won't have to.” Despite his trepidation, Throndir squeezes Red Jack's arm to get his attention, but he has returned to sternly glaring out across the fire. Throndir tries again, unable to justify the urgency he feels in convincing the oni of this: “Jack,  **listen to me** : Blue J won't have to make that choice because you aren't your father.”  


At that Red Jack slowly turns, his eyes now glowing like the hearts of fresh coal. “You do not know of what you speak.” Each word is enunciated slow and sharp: “I am Red. Jack. We are. . .  **I**  am a fable passed down through the ages. Though I may change in small ways from generation to generation, people are people and there is one thing that never changes: I am a _cautionary_ tale, Throndir.”

 

Throndir's grip on Red Jack's arm is compromised as the Oni seems to grow before him, doubling and tripling in size until he shouldn't be able to fit within the space that he occupies. But even as he towers over the elf he still sits on the same log, and for a horrible moment the world shifts in Throndir's vision to accommodate Jack's figure, his legs which should have been forced to bend up as the log becomes nearer and nearer to the ground in relation to his body remaining relaxed and extended – his knees somehow are not in the fire, and Throndir's hand remains on his bicep, despite that portion of Red Jack's body now appearing to be level with the lowest branches of the trees above Throndir's head.  


As Throndir fights the urge to vomit Red Jack bellows “ **I am the monster that mothers fabricate to keep their children in bed at night.** ” The elf' reels and falls away from Red Jack reflexively but a huge hand catches him before he slides off the log completely. Yet there's no stirring in the camp, as though Red Jack, whose mouth isn't even visible to Throndir at this angle anymore, had whispered directly into his ear.  


And now it's just the hand of the same Red Jack he's spent the last decade of his life with - except Throndir doesn't remember the heat that lingers after the hand is removed.  


As Throndir reorients himself, he expects to see Red Jack's face twisted in rage but when he looks up he sees only that same sorrow from years before, their eyes meeting briefly before Red Jack straightens himself and returns to his deliberate pose, hands crossed over the hilt of his odatchi, attention straight ahead, occasionally glancing about as though he's seen something in the darkness but never looking down at Throndir.  


This gives the elf plenty of time to study his stern face. Red Jack's horns are darkened from what must have been the fight against the Solarch, though his tusks are clean. Throndir can see that the oily black soot has been worn away from the immediate area of Red Jack's face, probably the result of several weeks of quickly scrubbing away the day's sweat at night. His hands itch to clean the rest himself. He considers the contrast with Jack's gleaming armor and spotless sword before letting out a sigh.

 

Suddenly he can't help a small choked off laugh, “And you just told me to forgive myself.” he laughs again, his throat beginning to feel tight enough to panic, “And you've told me to go to sleep,” another laugh, though it sounds more like a sob, “I don't sleep anymore, Jack.”

 

“You're afraid of becoming that monster because you're not one. I  **hate**  myself for what I did to Ben, but that's not the only reason.”  


Red Jack does look at him now and Throndir has to turn away, unwilling to watch concern turn to disgust as he explains, “Did you know why Ephrim's affliction has gotten worse again? Why he was weak enough for Arrel to control him so easily? That was me.”  


“I don't need to sleep,” he takes a quick breath and his lungs feel raw, “I don't need to eat, either, because unlike you I already am a monster. I live because I take life from others - I lost control and hurt Ephrim, and I .. I  **ate**  Arrel.” Another breath, deeper, this time coming a little easier as he gives into the coldness inside of him, feeding it a little of himself and feeling better for it, feeling less,“It's going to happen again, I know it will. As long as I'm alive the people closest to me will suffer because of it.”  


Red Jack remains uncharacteristically silent and Throndir continues, “and.. I'm going to keep hurting people. . .because I don't want to die.” He grimaces and folds in on himself, hiding his face in his hands as he sucks in one shuddering breath after another despite feeling mostly numb. Calm, but also like he could cry for days, overwhelmed with the shame that's been growing inside him for years.

 

Red Jack opens his mouth to say something, but as he considers his words he hears Throndir mutter into his knees, “and I don't want you to die either.”  


They sit in silence for a while after that, Throndir taking deep breaths and holding air that he doesn't need in his lungs until he should feel lightheaded. Feeling lightheaded because he knows he doesn't even need to breathe anymore. His muscles burn from how tightly he holds himself and he pretends it's because he's not breathing, and not because he's scared. He wills his focus away from the need to show Red Jack that he's good by proving that he's worse and forces it in on himself until he no longer feels like crying.  


Eventually he feels Red Jack's large hand on his back again, hot through his shirt but light at first, as though Red Jack isn't quite willing to touch him. After another moment's silence Red Jack slowly rests his hand fully on Throndir's back and his voice rumbles from deep within his broad chest, “You know that I  _can't_  die Throndir. I'll live on in Blue J.” Then the hand is gone and Throndir feels his body lean towards Red Jack, chasing the warmth of it but not breaching the gap between them, “There will  _always_ be a Red Jack”

 

Throndir experiences a mixture of sadness and outrage for Red Jack and for Blue J in turn. He lifts his head to glare up at Red Jack and says slowly but firmly, “Blue J is their own person.”

 

Red jack makes a frustrated noise in his throat, but before he can say anything more Throndir, no longer hunched over, interjects “and  _you_  are your own person, too!”  


Throndir's face is blotchy from not-quite-crying, but his are eyes sharp, “I love Blue J - you know that - but never like I-” the words die before the air leaves his lungs and he shakes his head minutely before sighing and scowling down at Red Jack's forearm and deliberately laying his hand upon it and locking eyes with the very strong but very tired giant. He squeezes and says “Blue J will never  _be_  you”  


Red Jack softens, huffing out a laugh below his breath and smiling joylessly down at Throndir, “You just don't  _understand_ , Throndir. That is why I kept this from you all these years.”  


“A.. a flower that blooms midsummer cannot imagine the frosts of fall because it has only known warmth” he moves to put his hand over the much smaller one resting cooly on his arm but stops himself and sits back, twisting away from Throndir's touch to retrieve a cloth and oil from his pack behind them where it rests against the log, “but the frost  _will_  come.”  


Throndir watches as Red Jack begins cleaning his sword with a growing sense of outrage. The metal was already spotless, and by the time it's been wiped down at least three times too many Throndir is seething. He stands and moves so that he's in front of Red Jack, blocking the fire and forcing the oni to acknowledge him.

 

When Red Jack does looks up his eyes are no longer glowing yellow and his expression is hard to read in the shadow that Throndir casts. Throndir wants to scream - so instead it comes out as a strangled whisper, “I don't know how can you sit there after I tell you that i'm a fucking  _vampire_  and.. and then feed me bullshit about flowers wilting in frost!” Red Jack's eyes do not move from his but there's no reaction to indicate that he's listening and Throndir's chest feels tight. He suddenly doesn't know why he's trying to have this discussion, especially on this trip, but he the words are already tumbling out of him as though someone else is speaking them, “I have seen  _tyrany_. And I have seen evil and killed it myself. While you were fighting the Solarch I was draining the life from a man who...who was once my best friend the way that  _you_  say you are your father - so fast all that was left was a  _smear of blood_.”  


He fights down a frustrated sob, not wanting to cry again and hating how easy it's been to come to tears since Alcyon, “ _You_  are a good man and a...”  _a good dad_ , but Throndir swallows those words, unsure that such a thing exists, his hesitation reinforced by the sight of Red Jack's sincere belief that Blue J will lose their own personhood to become him.

 

“I'm more likely to kill you because I've just woken up groggy from a bad dream than Blue J will  _ever_  be.”

 

Throndir takes a step back, feeling the heat of fire behind him (not nearly as hot Red Jack's hand had been on his back) contrast sharply with the air between them, becoming nearly frigid as Throndir's emotions spike. “Don't patronize me Jack,” he spits, “ _it's not appealing_.”

 

And then Throndir is gone. And Red Jack is left to sit in the empty silence, contemplating his past selves and wondering which one would have been better suited for this conversation. The stillness is only broken by a rustling of leaves and a distant “well damn, alright then” as Fero goes to keep lookout on the other side of camp.  


Red Jack doesn't bother tending the fire for the rest of the night and the blue of dawn finds an exhausted elf who had  _definitely_  not slept, alone, struggling to light dewy kindling in time to get everyone a warm breakfast before breaking camp.

 

 

 


	2. Red Jack rolls again: it's a mixed success

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CW: this chapter includes a depiction of symptoms associated with panic attacks.

It's several days later, the Tower of Samot as a mountain range in the distance with fiery lightening and deafening thunder that makes his ears ring for lack of sound, after another night where no-one had fought Throndir's insistence that he had the watch covered by himself, when Red Jack emerges from the dark camp.

Throndir's anger had receded to a quiet sort of frustration and an unexplainable sense of disappointment, and he acknowledges the other man coldly, although it comes out softer than he would like - he’s too weary to harden it, “I told you I don't need to sleep. I'm _fine_ ” but does not look at Red Jack.

After a period of time where Throndir assumed Red Jack had lost interest and left, the silence is broken by a groan as Red Jack eases himself onto the ground near enough to the fire that his freshly cleaned horns reflect it with a flash as Red Jack turns to face Throndir. He huffs under his breath before commanding, as though it’s the most natural thing in the world, “Then  keep me company while I take second watch” as though his current position lent itself to fast action of any kind, or that he wasn't angled towards the fire in a way that would prevent his eyes from adjusting to the dark. He doesn't even have his sword with him, and is dressed in sleep robes tied loosely at the waist to keep him decent - but only just so. His hair falls free around his shoulders and it appears soft and freshly cleaned. He'd been as musty and covered in dirt as the rest of them at dinner.

Throndir's confusion gets the best of him and his nose wrinkles a little in distaste, “why did you waste time _bathing_ before fighting a dragon? You should have been _sleeping_.”

Red Jack laughs loud enough to wake the camp, had they not all been exhausted from harried travel. He smiles at Throndir, not having to incline his head far to meet his eyes even while seated and declares, “So that the songs that will be sung of our quest do not include a second foe: a stinking ogre come out from the wood to aide the corpse dragon in battle against our very small and very brave little heroes!”

Throndir laughs a little despite himself, so to hide it he very deliberately turns back to the starless darkness surrounding the camp - but he’s still smiling. They're in a sort of scrub-land now, and Throndir has felt vulnerable here all night. Until Red Jack showed up he'd been uncharacteristically alone - Kodiak had joined Fero, who was patrolling the area in the form of a coyote. The dog's soft snoring was replaced by an occasional bark in the distance. His only consolation is that it is a happy sound.

Time passes and he begins to feel his loneliness again when Red Jack startles him from his thoughts by quietly saying his name. There's more warmth in his voice than Throndir is comfortable with, but he answers Red Jack with a nod and his full attention regardless.

The oni clears his throat and says, “I do not wish to go into battle thinking that you might be angry with me.” A frustrated grumble and then continues with less performed formality than is his usual way, “...If something should happen I want no bad blood between us.”

Throndir resists the impulse to correct him; to insist that nothing will happen. But he knows that there's a good chance that something _will_ happen. So instead he forces a laugh and says, “was that a vampire joke? Because it doesn't work like that in real life..”

It’s a bad attempt at humor but it has Red Jack laughing again, and now the heft of it feels more genuine.  Throndir is relieved. He's grinning when he says “I was never angry with you! I just. . . hate your fatalism sometimes, y'know?”

Red Jack immediately laughs, “Ah Ha Ha!” - the laugh that almost sounds spoken and that he uses when he wants people to think him confident but in truth he's just self-aware of having done or said something ridiculous. Throndir can’t help but laugh quietly at Red Jack's exuberance - and though he insists “I’m not joking! It sucks!” there’s no bite to it.

There's another bark in the distance, and Throndir thinks he can hear Fero's laughter in the chattering of the coyote voice as the orbit of their play brings them past the fire and on again in a wild game of chase. At peace with the fact that there likely isn't anything any more dangerous than a giant bone-and-gel dragon in the vicinity (one that Fero’s pretty sure that it’s asleep, and has told everyone as much), Throndir comes to sit on the ground beside Red Jack.

When he bends down to sit, however, he's pulled off balance by a sharp tug on his nightshirt and lands with an “oof” ungracefully sprawled across Red Jack's lap. He begins to scramble off with a frantic barrage of apologies when he realizes that the hand that toppled him still holds the hem of his shirt, preventing him from getting away entirely. Throndir goes very still as his mind races to make sense of the discovery that Red Jack had _intentionally_ pulled Throndir onto him.

Red Jack takes Throndir’s stupor as an opportunity to adjust him such that his legs are on either side of Red jack's torso and he's seated comfortably on Red Jack's thighs. They're nearly eye level with each other once Red Jack leans back on his hands, content with the quick work he'd made of Throndir, whose eyes are still wide with shock; at the the physical contact, at the position he’d been placed in, and at Red Jack’s ability to lift and move him without even bracing an arm against the ground - Throndir is a big man, especially for an elf, and has never in his adult life been handled like this.

Once it's clear that the Throndir isn’t going to break the silence (one that Throndir finds horrifyingly awkward, unsure what to do with his hands, terrified of making Red Jack uncomfortable with an inappropriate touch), Red Jack gets to the point “I was not making a joke earlier, Throndir.”

He grumbles below his breath, furrows his eyebrows, and when he speaks it’s clear that he’s taking this seriously and wants the same from Throndir.  

“I was confident that my end would come at Blue J's arrow point, but I realize now that I may not have that opportunity... If I am killed tomorrow I am not sure..” He pauses to consider his words and Throndir is momentarily distracted by the possibilities of what Red Jack might say and adjust his weight without thinking, absently steadying himself with a hand on Red Jack’s knee. Red Jack looks at it and continues apologetically, “it may be a true death.”

Throndir’s mind flies back to the argument they had earlier this week, and he’s about to reiterate just how much he hate’s Red Jack’s fatalism (he hates it a lot)- but Red Jack cuts him off: “Ah! -I know that you believe _any_ death for me would be the end of of my .. individual personhood.” He sighs and straightens up a little, by necessity of their positioning bringing himself closer to Throndir. He puts both of his hands on Throndir’s shoulders and looking him dead in the eye, and emphasizes each word when he says:“ **You are wrong**.”

Throndir flinches away, but Red Jack brings his hands together at the back of his neck and prevents Throndir from leaving entirely, “But although I cannot remember a time when I wasn't Red Jack, I know that I was called _something_ before I executed myself..my father. And so I admit that there are … some differences between he and I.”

His thumbs are rubbing little circles behind Throndir’s ears in what could be interpreted as a comforting gesture, but it’s too intimate and Throndir almost can’t handle it, his pulse racing with anticipation. Still, he doesn’t try to move and after a moment that he spends staring daggers at Red Jack for toying with him, Red Jack continues slowly, and not at all like he's playing a game, “So. Should the dragon best me, or should I become.. consumed by lust for battle after defeating such a foe, I do not want to lose _this_ self that wants...”

Through the pounding of his own heartbeat, Throndir realizes that Red Jack is struggling for words. He watches as Red Jack rumbles with impatience at his inability to communicate, “I know that even as Blue J I will love you, just as I know they love you now, but I...” Another low growl, this time accompanied with clenched teeth, a self-directed snarl, “You are going to live a long life, Throndir. And I _cannot_ allow you to live it thinking that I -that **this** Red Jack hasn't been wanting you since the day we met.”

Throndir doesn't have the time to process that before he's pulled into a crushing hug, a ladder of pops running up his spine as the tension is literally squeezed out of him. Once he’s convinced himself that he isn't dreaming or misinterpreting the meaning behind Red Jack’s words, Throndir turns his face into Red Jack's neck to laugh or cry or both. He tries to breath in the warm smell of Red Jack's skin, wanting to take advantage of the chance to experience what it's like when it's just Red Jack - clean - and not overlayed with sweat or blood or dust or cooking oil - but he finds that his sinuses are closing up as his eyes blur and spill over. He suddenly feels too much: The affection he’d channeled into admiration; the waves of sadness that hit him each time he left Red Jack’s quarters that he attributed to perfectly normal loneliness; the shame that rattled through him until he was nauseous and his fingers were numb each time he caught himself reading too much into a look or phrase and was rewarded by Red Jack putting distance between them, sometimes taking weeks before their interactions felt natural again; and it’s Fantasmo too, countless nights waking up in a cold sweat from nightmares where he fails to save him from Arrel; more and more shame because all the relationships he has ever had have only ever been one sided. He’d made it all up. But he _isn’t_ imagining this. _He isn’t_ and It’s all too _much._

He's making a mess of Red Jack's shoulder, but when Throndir starts to push himself away again he's only squeezed closer, a huge hand petting down his back before cradling his head to press against the side of Red Jack's face, heedless of the snot and tears that pour from Throndir in lieu of a decent verbal response to Red Jack's admission. Why won’t he stop _crying_? Throndir is overheating, warmed through in a way he hasn't felt on his own in years and for one horrified moment he thinks that he’s lost control again and begun to feed off of Red Jack before realizing that no, Red Jack just runs incredibly hot.

He feels Red Jack turn slightly, tusks pressing into the side of his head and he hiccups a series of hysterical laughs and says, “y'know it's fucked up that I'm only finding out you're a living furnace the night before we're both going to be killed by some fucked up dragon,” his voice cracks, “when all those years I spent in the fucking,” he pauses because he’s run out of air to form words with, and he’s coughing from the mucus that he’s inhaled in an attempt to refill his lungs, “..fucking freezing cold and you were _right there_.”

For once Red Jack doesn't shield himself behind extended metaphor. Instead he pulls away from Throndir just enough to press a kiss to his temple. Throndir sobs as he feels Red Jack breathe “I'm so sorry,” into his skin, over and over. Eventually Throndir is too exhausted to keep crying and Red Jack just holds him close and sits watching the fire.

It's true that Throndir doesn't need to sleep. . . but he's so _tired_ , and with his head resting on Red Jack's chest, listening to the cracking of the fire and the slow steady breaths of the body supporting him, he begins to drift off.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter is 95% porn without plot. Steer clear if that's not something you want to read.

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE come yell at me about Thronjack on twitter - you can find me @Arpad_Blarpad where i post the family friendly fanart or @Blarpad_Arpad for the spicy stuff >:)


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